


My happy ensemble

by GreatMarta



Category: Ballerina | Leap! (2016)
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Father-Daughter Relationship, Master-Student relationship, Mother-Daughter Relationship, a little bit of this and that, ballet practice, melange, merdette, mostly lighthearted oneshots, practice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-02-22 16:53:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13171170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreatMarta/pseuds/GreatMarta
Summary: A collection of one-shots. Mostly family fluff. Some courtship, some ballet practice. Post-movie. Not in chronological order.





	1. Study time!

Félicie skimmed over the page. She frowned. Rubbed her eyes. Looked closer. And broke into a cold sweat.

Standing next to her, Mérante smiled. 

“Read this text carefully” he told her. “Write down all the words you don’t understand. When you’re done, I will explain them to you. Then I will ask you to use them in sentences”

Félicie looked at him in horror. “It would be easier to write down those I DO understand” she cried.

Mérante chuckled. “You, mademoiselle, are ridiculous”

Sensing impending doom, the girl called out: “Mo-om! Help!”

“Mind your father, dear” came a jovial reply from the kitchen. “You know he has your best interest in mind”

The girl groaned. “There’s no way I’ll finish this today!”

“Not if you complain” argued Mérante, thoroughly amused. “Though you just might make it by dinnertime if you push yourself”

Félicie considered the book in front of her with aversion, bordering on disgust. “What’s the point? What do the ancient philo-surfers have to do with my life?” she asked moodily.

“Philosophers” corrected Mérante. With a gentler tone, he added: “You may not be happy with this, Félicie, but ballet dancers may only perform for a limited time. This is a demanding profession, and your body will not endure it beyond a certain point”

He leaned closer, resting his arms on Félicie’s desk. “You need an alternative, something to hold on to when your dream ends. WE need you to have an alternative. We want you to be able to live on”

The girl looked sulky, but she listened to her adoptive father attentively. That encouraged him to keep going.

“Do you think you can push yourself a little more with your studies?” he asked, smiling at the girl fondly and giving her a squeeze on the shoulder. “I’m sure your mother will appreciate it”

Félicie considered him for a few more seconds. She was making a face, but Mérante kept his smile up. He knew he had won this battle. At this point, his adoptive daughter was already holding the white flag, but wanted to keep him in suspense before she waved it – show defiance just for the sake of showing defiance. Finally, true to his predictions, the girl groaned loudly, grabbed her quill and got down to work. Satisfied, the ballet master nodded, stroked his adoptive daughter’s hair, and made his leave. His job was done for now.


	2. The hot wheels

“You can open your eyes now”

Félicie did as she was told. In front of her stood Victor. On first glance, he appeared taller than usual. On second glance, he had wheels attached to his feet.

“This, mon Cherie, is my latest invention” proclaimed the boy proudly. “I call them the hot wheels. With these on, I will be able to keep up with you when you ballet around. Heck, I bet Odette could keep up with youuuuuu…!!!”

Victor lost balance and landed on his behind. Félicie came to him, smiling.

“You really think these could help Odette move more freely?” she asked, excited by the possibility.

“Sure” said Victor. “I may have to make some improvements, but yeah, she’s gonna love it”

Félicie’s face brightened. “You’re amazing” She leaned down and placed a kiss on Victor’s forehead.

The boy grinned. “You missed”

Rapidly he lifted himself off the ground, placed his hands on Félicie’s shoulders, and his lips on top of hers.

For a moment, she was too stunned to move. Finally, a sheepish smile appeared on her face.

“You better take these off” she advised her companion. “You’re going too fast for my taste”

“Sorry”


	3. And we could be enough

First position, second, third, fourth, fifth. First position, second, third, fourth, fifth. First positions, second, third…

“Félicie, that’s quite enough” Odette told her young protégée.

The girl turned to look at her, swinging sweat droplets into the air. “I can keep going” she panted. “When I’m tired, I make progress”

“There is a difference between being tired and being exhausted” was Odette’s reply. “The way you are now, you are more likely to make errors than progress. You’ve done enough for today. You need to rest”

The aspiring ballerina hesitated for a moment, clutching the rail by which she practiced. Reluctantly, she let it go and trotted over to her caretaker. In her expression, besides tiredness, Odette noticed a hint of sorrow and consternation.

“How do I know if I’ve done enough?” asked the girl.

Odette smiled softly. Such vulnerability was unusual for her young protégée. Poor darling looked as if voicing her doubts cost her every last bit of energy she had not spent on the ballet regime. One could assume she was still suffering from a lingering sense of guilt after that infamous failure of an audition. Whether this was the case or not, Félicie clearly was in the mood to listen to advice and truly take it to heart. It would be a shame to waste it.

“You need to listen to your body” Odette said gently. “Observe your reactions and how they change. It may be hard at first, but you will learn it with time. Until then, trust Monsieur Mérante and myself to look after you”

Félicie let her head drop as she considered this advice. For a moment she stayed like this, breathing in a controlled manner, keeping an expression of quiet despondency. Finally, she met her mentor’s gaze. And presented her with a smile, as subtle as sunrays shining through the clouds.

“You know…” she uttered, unexpectedly sheepish, “I think you’re amazing. If I’m ever mean to you, I still think you’re amazing. I want you to know”

Odette was taken aback. The girl in front of her grinned, happy and somehow elated. Instantly, the former ballerina felt her heart melt. Such precious was this child she had taken in.

“Likewise, Félicie” she told her. “Likewise”

In her head, she added: “My little sunshine”


	4. The joys of ballet

“Alright, everybody, that’s it for today” announced the Ballet Master Louis Mérante to his ensemble. 

Whatever words he produced afterwards were blocked by the sound of Félicie Le Bras dropping to the floor and panting heavily. Too tired to care for such nonsense as dignity, the girl laid flat on her back, limbs spread, heart pounding like a hammer. God gracious, she needed to rest, and she needed it badly.

The prima ballerina – Rosita Mauri – stood upon her, donning a gentle smile.

“You have reached the point, haven’t you?” she inquired empathetically. “You’re hurting in muscles you didn’t know you had”

Félicie’s eyes opened half-way. “That…” she muttered. “…was… huh… the case… huh… when I… first started… oh God… huh… Now I’m… hurting… ugh… in muscles… I don’t have… for real… huh…”

“Oh dear” Rosita chuckled. She then seated herself beside the exhausted child and touched her head with affection. “Don’t worry. You will get used to it”

Félicie surely hoped she would. As much as she loved dancing, the regime of daily practices and rehersals was wearing her out. First a whole hour for stretching of all body parts, then an hour for basic techniques, then several hours of rehersing the Nutcracker – even on days they weren’t performing. All things considered, this had to be at least six hour of hard, physical labor a day. Every day.

Félicie honestly couldn’t believe that her older colleague looked only mildly tired after all this. Good God, the woman had to be absorbing energy from the universe. There was no other explanation.

So this is the strength of a prima ballerina. This is the level you need to be on if you want to be a top dancer. 

I wonder if I could be this strong. – wondered Félicie. A couple of deep breaths later, she answered herself – Well, I won’t find out if I don’t push myself. – with this thought in mind she rose to the sitting position and then stood up. She was still feeling a little dizzy, but it didn’t bother her that much. Fatigue was good. It meant she was working. More than that – living her dream.

I am a ballerina – she told herself. – A real, legitimate ballerina. I am a part of this world.

A surge of pride blocked impulses sent by her aching muscles. Ballerina. Yeah, that sounded delightful.


	5. Going out

Having smoothed his hair one last time, Mérante knocked at the door. A couple of very loud and rapid footsteps later the door swung open, revealing a beaming Félicie.

“Oh, flowers? How nice!” the girl eagerly grabbed the humble, albeit elegant bouquet from his hand and rushed to put it into a vase (which he had brought as a gift last time he visited). In doing so she skillfully avoided crashing into Odette, who was trotting to greet the visitor, shaking her head in mock exasperation.

“They’re lovely” she told Mérante. “Thank you”

“You are most welcome” replied her suitor, taking the hand she extended to him, on which he planted a kiss.

Meanwhile Félicie resurfaced beside them, way more pleased than it should be allowed. “So, you’re going out tonight?” she inquired, crossing her arms on her chest.

“We are indeed” answered Mérante, unable to keep a smile off his face.

The redhead grinned widely. “I hope you are not taking her anywhere inappropriate” she eyed him critically, practically drowning in complacency.

Mérante made his eyes wide. “Madame, you wound me. I wouldn’t dare” he did his best pretending to be hurt, but couldn’t quite suppress his amusement. There was just something adorable about the young girl playing chaperone.

Meanwhile Odette chuckled. “Don’t worry, Félicie. I’m sure we’re going to a quiet, sober, quiet-sober place” she said innocently, putting emphasis at the end.

The girl’s grin became sheepish as she tried to swallow a giggle.

Using the brief moment of advantage, the former ballerina gently pushed her suitor towards the exit of the room. He took the hint and the two of them proceeded swiftly outwards.

They still managed to hear one final warning from Félicie: “Bring her back late and you’ll be six inches smaller!”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This one deals with Odette's trauma and mentions post-fire scarring. It's not overly explicit, but stay away if you're sensitive.

For a long, long time, Odette could not bring herself to look at it. When she needed to bathe, she did so in the dark. When she needed to change, she did so with her eyes closed. She knew it was futile, not to mention silly – her body was damaged beyond repair, of which she was reminded with every step she took. And yet, she somehow found it easier to accept the necessity of using a cane than the presence of scars on her right leg and hip.

Sometimes, when she laid in bed and her mind refused to turn off, her hand would wander beneath the nightgown and trace the border between her regular skin and the scar tissue. Even if her eyes weren’t following the trail, she could very clearly see the map of her misery in her head. Not just the red, bubbly surface, but also the ragged roots that reached deep into her muscles, brushing the nerves when she least expected it. At least, that’s the way it felt.

Such exploits inevitably lead to anxiety. No matter how much Odette wanted to resist, traumatic memories flooded her brain. First the flash. Then the heat. Then the agonizing pain that bit into her flesh, merciless flames ripping her skin, as if the devil himself dug his claws into her muscles.

Then she sat up, covered in cold sweat, struggling to catch her breath.

It always took tremendous effort to remind herself that she was rescued. Somebody knocked her down and threw a cape over her. She was brought to the hospital and treated. The pain was agonizing, relentless, and overwhelming, but she survived. She lived.

Only that she was doomed to forever carry around a parasite.

This is how she perceived the scar when it hurt the most. A parasite, something that drained her off energy and poisoned her thoughts. It pulsated. It stretched. It sought to expand its reach, to consume more and more of her. In her worst nightmares, the scar grew so much it swallowed her whole. Thus, when given a choice, she preferred to pretend it didn’t exist.

Things did get better over time. Odette’s inner demons grew lenient, less determined to interfere with every aspect of her life. Nightmares were fewer and less intense. Even the scaring seemed to have paled. At some point, the former ballerina realized she could look at the visual evidence of her tragedy without experiencing much beyond a slight discomfort.

She still didn’t consider herself lucky to have survived. But she was getting there.


	7. Lunch

“So, what would you like?” Mérante asked, as he and Odette inspected the baker’s stand.

“I’ll have a baguette with cheese, please,” decided the woman.

The ballet master hesitated briefly before confronting her. “Odette, you know you can order meat products if you want to. I don’t expect you to avoid meat just because I do.”

She have him a heartfelt smile. “Louis, you get uncomfortable when you as much as smell meat.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. So did Odette’s, as a horrifying realization dawned upon her. To make this sort of conclusions, she’d have to have been watching him attentively for a prolonged period of time. Now he’ll think she had an unhealthy obsession with him. Not good.

Desperate to save her reputation, the former ballerina blurted: “I mean, that’s what I’ve heard…”

No sooner had these words slid off her tongue that an even more terrifying realization struck her. What she said implied that Louis’s discomfort with certain smells was common knowledge. Now he’ll think the whole world perceived him as unmanly. This was even worse than the former alternative.

With a heavy sigh, Odette accepted that she’s made a faux pas. “Alright,” she conceded. “I may have been paying you a little more attention than I probably should have.”

She looked away, embarrassed. This wasn’t one of her brightest moment, but there was no helping it now. If she had to choose which to protect – Louis’s opinion of her or his own self-esteem – it had to be the latter.

Mérante contemplated her is solemn silence for several seconds. Then, surprisingly, his face brightened in genuine content.

“That’s a relief,” he confessed. “Now I feel a little better about my own… slanderous pursuits.” 

Odette gave him a questioning look.

“I’ve been watching you,” he admitted, disarmingly honest. “I have never stopped watching you. God help me, Odette, not even the stench of a roasted pig could distract me from your magnificence. So, really, you don’t have to feel bad about eating meat around me. Or paying me more attention than should be allowed, for that matter. I’d hate to be the only sinful deviant in this relationship.”

Odette stared at him in disbelief. He continued to regard her with adoring eyes and an irresistible smile. Soon enough, her own face was conquered by child-like joy. It was embarrassing, to be swept away with the simplest things this man said or did. But then, she just couldn’t bring herself to be bothered. Louis loved her and she loved him. As long as that remained true, the two of them could even be considered a pair of sinful deviants. What the heck.

“You are unbelievable,” she told him.

“Thank you,” he replied.

“I still prefer baguettes with cheese.”

“Thank you tenfold.”


End file.
